Pancakes
by Ainsley Bondevik
Summary: Gilbert wants pancakes. Matthew obliges. And I suck at summaries. Fluffy PruCan oneshot. Human names used. (Image credit to britishislesdame on deviantart)


**A/N: Seriously, bear with me here. My first published fanfic, I'd really love reviews. They're surprisingly inspiring. That sort of rhymed. Not really. But in all honesty, PruCan does not get enough love. It's bad enough that these two dorks don't have any canon interactions, besides Canada giving Prussia some maple syrup for Christmas once.**

 **Dedicated to Paigerick. Just 'cause. You know who you are, you weird pomegranate. Love ya, beebs.**

 **Also, Nikki. Because you're sitting next to me so I feel obliged.**

"Birdie."

"Hngh."

"Hey. Birdie. Wake up."

More grumbling.

"C'mon, Matthew. I want pancakes and nobody makes 'em like you do."

Matthew finally found the willpower to open his eyes wearily. They instantly landed on Gilbert, who was approximately three centimetres away from his face. He was tempted to throw the covers back over his head, but he knew his demanding - and very hungry - boyfriend would never allow it. "At least give me a few minutes. You know I was up late last night doing paperwork, no thanks to you." Paperwork which Gil had supposed to help him with. And didn't. At all. In fact, he'd distracted Matthew more than anything. How he had gotten any work done, he had no idea.

Gilbert grinned cockily. "Hey, if it weren't for me, you would've been bored out of your mind. What would you do if your brain just burned right out of your skull? I mean, I'd miss you and stuff, but it would probably be a lot worse for you. Y'know, 'cause your brain's gone. And then you couldn't make me pancakes. Which I'd like you to do now."

Matt hid his smirk and raised an eyebrow. "Really? What's the magic word?"

"Um...I love you?"

"I love you too, but no. And that's three words, not one."

"Hold on, I'll get it. Uh...one sec, _mein Lieber_ …"

"Not that hard, Gil. Maybe you're the one with your brain burned out."

"Hey! Wait...pl-please? Please! I got it!"

Rolling his eyes, Matthew put his arms around Gil's neck. "Yes, you got it. And it only took you...how many tries? 10? 12?" He giggled as Gilbert's face turned pink and he sputtered indignantly. As he opened his mouth to protest, Matt leaned in and stole a kiss, successfully silencing him. They were both aware that they had awful bedhead, fatal morning breath, and were in their worn, wrinkled pyjamas, but they didn't care. Sighing into the kiss, Matthew thought, _If I can wake up like this everyday, I hope I live forever._

Gilbert finally broke the kiss, pulling back to say, "As great as that was - and trust me, it was - I still want pancakes." His stomach grumbled in agreement. Matt laughed, sliding off the bed and pulling his bossy boyfriend with him. Downstairs, he pulled the ingredients out of the cupboards while Gilbert sat at the bar, chattering at him as he usually did. Whether it was gossip about one of the other nations, football stats for the national team, or just a comment on the weather, he always had something to say. And Matthew always listened, because he could see how much it meant to Gil when he listened, instead of dismissing him as 'annoying' like many others did. He piped up, "You know, Gilbert, I don't think you'd be half bad at making pancakes if you actually tried." True, Gil's cooking occasionally ended in mild fires, but he wasn't bad at _everything._ Gil looked up from the magazine he was reading, Gilbird perched on his head. "Hey, you want help from the awesome me, birdie? I don't know if you can handle it."

"I think I can. I handle every other part of you just fine."

"I'm trying to figure out if you meant that in an innocent or dirty way."

"Draw your own conclusions, makes no difference to me."

"Fine", he countered. "But if I make the pancakes, Gilbird has to get some too." His chick chirped and fluttered down to rest on the countertop between them. Matt smiled and rubbed his head softly with his finger. "Yes, Gilbird, you can have some too. No syrup though, I'm pretty sure that's not safe for birds." Handing the spatula to Gil, he let him take over while maintaining a semi-watchful eye. He busied himself with getting plates, forks and syrup instead and set them on the bar. Gil's completed pancakes weren't as good-looking as Matthew's, but he seemed rather proud of them, nonchalantly puffing out his chest a bit. Matthew suppressed the urge to laugh and focused on serving them instead.

Gil walked over to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of his favourite beer and setting it next to his plate. He then topped off Matt's coffee before finally sitting down across from him. "I know that look on your face, and I don't wanna hear it."

Matt smiled. "I didn't even say anything. But since you're already expecting it, remind me again how you drink _beer_ with breakfast? Or why?"

"As always, birdie, the answer is simple - I like beer. Anytime is beer time. Except when Denmark's getting excited with his axe again, then it is absolutely not beer time. Plus, it's manlier. And who's manlier than me?" Actually, Matt could think of several people, but none of them compared to his Gilbert. His Prussia.

"No one is manlier than you, Prupru, don't worry. And if anyone protests, then you can beat them down with your manliness." Finishing one last bite of pancake, he smiled softly at Gilbert as they both leaned in for a kiss. It was light and gentle, and tasted like maple syrup and morning sunshine and love. Gil always made Matthew feel special.

"I love you, Gilbert."

"I love you too, Matthew."

 **Read, review, follow, whatever you like to do. No pressure.**

 **-Ainsley**


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